


Evangeline Yancy and the paranormal activity

by Imqueerandfilledwithfeaf



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29900043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imqueerandfilledwithfeaf/pseuds/Imqueerandfilledwithfeaf
Summary: Evangeline Yancy liked to think she was an ordinary girlBut what happened at the beginning of March in the middle of her French test, was not ordinary.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a story I started writing because I was bored.

Evangeline Yancy liked to think she was an ordinary girl

But what happened at the beginning of March in the middle of her French test, was not ordinary. 

For this story to start, you must understand three important things about Evangeline. The first one was that Evangeline absolutely despised her name. Evangeline's mother, who for the sake of this story is not important, liked to think of herself as modern, classy, and refined. When in actuality, she came off as a bit of an obnoxious snob. Her mother was the type of lady you saw at the grocery store and immediately ducked into another aisle so you wouldn’t have to be stuck listening to her mindless chatter about what type of caviar she was buying.

The second thing you must know about Evangeline, who, despite her mothers protests, goes by Evie, is that she goes to a private boarding school in Northern Italy, tucked away in a small town. Which is where this story takes place. Evie loved that boarding school with all of her heart, it felt more like home than the cold, big house her mother prides herself on showing off. 

The third thing you should understand about Evie, is that she has no relations whatsoever with the dead, spirits, and/or ghosts. She was not obsessed with them as some people are, nor did she hate them or didn’t believe they existed. Evie didn’t like to focus on the dead, she preferred her company with the living. 

So, now that you know all that you should for this story to make sense, without further ado, we will start. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, Shit, SHIT! God, if anyone’s reading my mind right now that's pretty much what my internal monologue sounds like 24/7. I’m such a dumbass. Now dear person reading my mind, you might be wondering WHY I’m a dumbass. “Oh but Evie, you're so smart and wonderful” is what you might be thinking. Thank you, but right now, I am the biggest dumbass to grace this earth. I KNEW I had a French test today. I had known for two weeks and yet what did I do? Study once for twenty minutes and think that was enough for me to pass this god awful test? Ding ding ding, that's exactly what I did. 

God, I’m screwed. The French teacher is terrifying and I am legitimately scared she might send me to the guillotine if I flunk this test too. My stomach tightens in anxiety. God why do I do this to myself. I look around the room while twirling my pencil around my fingers. Everyone else is writing with a look of concentration fixed on their face. They all studied for this test, I thought bitterly, even though the only person I could be bitter at was myself. Though bold of you to assume I’m not bitter with myself. I am. I return back to my test where I’m given a paragraph and have to fix the verbs into the future prosch version. A ridiculous name , in my humble opinion. I rub my temples, trying to desperately soothe the headache that's been obnoxiously ever present in my head for a couple periods now. My stomach gives another dizzying lurch and I decide that it’s not anxiety but cramps. In the middle of March though? Bodies are weird though, so I don't doubt it. God, as if this day could get any worse.

I stare down at my paper with such an intensity I could’ve burned it. I try to wipe away a little weird tiny black spot that appeared on my paper. Probably just eraser shavings. Though as much as I wipe, the dot doesn’t budge. I blink repeatedly a couple of times and the dot shifts slightly. My stomach pain is increasing alarmingly, but I ignore it in favor of staring at the white board. Yup, they’re still there, and increasing in number. My head is pounding and my vision on the edges goes a little blurry. 

Out of nowhere, I suddenly cough. My body jolts a little as I cough and my arm instinctively reaches up to cover my mouth. Something with the consistency of liquid flies out of my mouth but it doesn't register. Instead I try to focus on why my arms feel like they couldn’t pick up a pencil. This is kind of coming out of nowhere. I try to raise my hand and ask if I can go to the bathroom and wait till this sudden spell of whatever this is passes but I barely get my hand halfway in the air before a coughing spell takes over and I’m violently hacking up what feels like my liver. I cough more and more while my free hand desperately claws at my throat, the other one stupidly still raised in the air.  
“Evie? Are you alright?” The French teacher asks and by now everyone in the room has abandoned their test and is staring at me. Gee Ms. French teacher, I’m coughing up what I now register as blood and my brain feels like static, but other than that, everything’s just peachy. Not the time for sarcasm, I chide myself, but nonetheless I hysterically chuckle a bit, causing me to choke on the blood building up in my mouth. The black dots have increased so much by now that black consumes my vision, and the last thing I see before a gracefully face plant into my desk is the stupid passè composè staring up at me. 

Have I ever told you how much I hate people touching my hair? Which is why, when I feel someone yank my hair, I jolt upright so fast my chair tips back and my head bangs onto the desk behind mine where an extremely concerned and startled looking boy with ashy blond hair is staring at me with wild eyes. Dang, I didn’t even make it to the floor. I can hear people yelling in the background, but it’s all kind of fuzzy. By then, my head hurts so much the bang doesn’t add to it much. I can feel the blood I was earlier coughing up continue to flow, rapidly filling my mouth. Without the energy to cough it up or spit it out, I just let it overflow my mouth, and it drips down the side of my face. I probably look insane, I feel it too.  
“I always wanted to go out dramatically” I joked to the scared boy, trying to make light of the situation. I lift my head slightly and that shift causes my chair to dislodge from the desk behind me and continue its journey downwards. I’m dead before I even hit the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the second chapter that i finished a couple days ago but forgot to upload

If you have never died before, trust me, you aren’t missing much. I groggily opened my eyes and realized I was sitting in an upright position, hunched over. I tried to access my situation and piece together what happened. I glanced to my left briefly and nearly had a seizure. The French teacher was sitting next to me, her body facing away from me. I peered around her and looked around. There was a bed I was sitting beside, and I looked like I was in a hospital. My best friend Eclipsa was sitting across on the other side of the bed. Her head in her hands, her jet black chin length hair falling forward a bit. I glanced around and realized that they were listening to someone. A doctor was standing at the end of the bed, talking.

“No one could’ve predicted it, we suspect it came from something she ate. It caused internal bleeding and the blood filled up her lungs.” Wow, ok thats dark. It seems like a really terrible way to die and I would not like to die that way. Speaking of which, who are we even talking about? I finally looked over to the bed to see me lying in it. I looked back at the doctor to continue listening to what he was saying when what I saw finally registered in my brain. My head whipped back to the bed so fast, I’m sure I would’ve broken my neck if I wasn’t already dead. There I was, my eyes were closed and I looked like I was sleeping. My ginger hair that reached my elbows was a bit spread out around my head. A little bit of blood specked my face, looking like a creepy album cover. Except it wasn’t. That was me, or my body at least. I was somehow still here. I reached out to touch my shoulder but my finger passed right through me. The classic ghost type shit you only hear in stories. 

I looked at the finger that had passed through my dead body. It was an icy cold blue, pale, with a shiny weird glow to it. I looked down and saw that the rest of my body was like that. I pat myself down, but I could still touch myself; just not others. I took a shaky breath in. And out, trying to steady myself. Ok, ok, ok, I’m dead. Wow, I’m dead. But yet I’m somehow still here. As a ghost? I look like a pretty convincing ghost. And obviously no one else can see me, otherwise they wouldn’t be standing around talking about my death. Speaking of which, how did I die? I remember French, and practically throwing up blood like vomit. 

“But what caused the food she ate to make her bleed internally?” My French teacher asked as if she read my mind. The doctor consulted their notes. 

“Ah, well that's the thing” they answered “we found high doses of poison in her blood and we suspect whatever poison it was, it caused internal bleeding, and for her lungs to fill up with blood.” Ah, poison. Probably my mother, the bastard. 

“Evangeline was a healthy fifteen year old. It is not likely that this death was of natural causes.” I wince at the use of my first name. The French teacher nods. Eclipsa probably wasn’t listening. She was staring at my corpse with no emotion on her face. Her face was red and blotchy, her eyes red and puffy. God am I going to miss her. We met when we were quite young, around six. I remember sitting alone at a table, mentally cursing my mother for sending me here, when Eclipsa came up to me and offered half of her brownie. I remember asking her why she was being so nice to me. 

“You look like you need a friend,” she responded. She had said it so simply too. My face had flushed red with anger. 

“I don’t need a friend, and I don’t need your stupid brownie” I snapped at her, my tiny six year old voice laced with anger. 

“And yet you ate it.” She said. I had, indeed, eaten my half of the brownie. “You need a friend,” she continued “and I’m going to be yours, whether you like it or not. Besides, you look really nice.” Despite my anger, a tiny smile crept onto my face and we had been friends ever since. 

I’m snapped back to the present with the scuffling of feet. Eclipsa and my French teacher got up from their chairs, and started to leave the room. I got up to follow after them, and found out my feet don’t really touch the floor. I glided after them, down long plain white halls with the smell of antiseptic following us. We reached a waiting room, where I could see everyone else in my French class had been waiting. I’m surprised they notified Eclipsa. My school lets you choose French or Spanish as an extra language. Not quite half my class does French. Eclipsa does Spanish. 

“Well?” A girl asks, a little hopefully. Claire is her name. She’s nice, and we're friends, but not like best friends and all. I regret not getting to know her a bit more, she seems like a cool person. The French teacher shakes her head and the class goes silent. 

“She's dead?” A boy asks. The one whose desk I fell on, with the ashy blond hair. He’s shifting from foot to foot, nervously. The French teacher nods and Claire starts crying. I notice other people have red rimmed eyes as well. Despite how kind you might find this, I am a tad bit annoyed by this. 

“Some of y’all hated me, and now you cry over my dead body?” I say out loud, it’s not like any of them could hear me. 

But then it happened. A boy, his name Felix. For the slightest fraction of a second I could’ve swore his head turned to me. Everyone else had started to leave. I stood there for a couple of seconds, blinking repeatedly. After I stood there dumbly for a few seconds, I shook my head and floated to keep up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways Stan Eclipsa.

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all should see what my search history looks like after I wrote this chapter.


End file.
